Quiet
by Anastasia Athene
Summary: Just a little story set after the season finale...Literati...some spoilers--enjoy!


A/N: Just a story set after the season finale-has some spoilers, so beware!! Rory comes back from Washington, etc, etc. ...Literati...  
*Oh, and if anyone has a different title for this story, it would be greatly appreciated. Just send me an email or leave it in your review. Thank you muchly-now on with the story!  
  
  
Quiet  
  
  
I stop by the diner today, after Mom picks me up from the airport. We walk in and you're there, being somewhat pleasant to the customers, even though your eyes look a little bit distracted. Mom catches me staring.  
"He came back," she says simply. "It's really weird, though. I haven't seen a single chalk outline, or had anything disappear, or heard about any broken wrists..." She laughs dryly, but it sounds fake and fades. "Sorry," she mutters, apparently seeing my expression.   
"That's okay," I mutter under my breath. She doesn't hear me, and goes rambling on about you, and how incredibly odd you were acting. I try to listen, but my heart isn't really in it. Instead, I look at you again as you give Taylor his change and a rather forced smile. I laugh to myself as Taylor gives you a suspicious look and walks out the door, holding his bills up to the light so he can make sure of the watermark. You're making them wonder, playing nice. It's making them even more leery of you, even more than before. It's actually kind of funny. You walk over to our table as I finish my train of thought.  
  
I worry slightly about how you're going to act around me now. All because of that kiss. That kiss...well, that kiss...it turned my world upside down. Cliché, I know, but it did. And the aftermath isn't going to be pretty. But as I look back, I realize: it wasn't a mistake. It wasn't some fluke, some hormonal reaction, some...I don't know the word. But I know that it was real. And I wouldn't take it back, not for anything.   
  
To my relief, you just give me a small, almost unnoticeable smile. "What can I get you?" Mom gives you her order---blueberry pancakes; it's two in the afternoon---along with a look that clearly says, 'What are you up to?' You just scribble it down, ignoring her, and turn to me.   
"What about you?" you ask gruffly, a hint of softness in your tone. I smile, a little nervously. Can you see it on my face?  
"I'll uh...uhm...I'll have..." You, a voice mutters in my mind. I shove it out of the way and finish, "I'll just have a burger & fries, I guess." You smile slightly-it doesn't quite reach your eyes-and nod. Then you turn and stride into the kitchen with not a backwards glance. I stare after you. You were happy, I could tell. To any other passing stranger (or any other Stars Hollow citizen, let's put it that way,) you would have seemed normal as always, smug and confident. But I could tell that you were happy. Just little things like that smile can tip me off. But I guess that's what happens when you fall for someone. It's not like I have a lot of experience, but still. I've fallen, and hard. It's so weird, actually admitting that I do have feelings for you. Six weeks away from a situation can really give you a startling perspective on it.   
  
Mom and I sit quietly for a minute, not knowing what to say, I guess. Finally Mom breaks the silence. "Rory?" My head snaps around. I guess I forgot I was staring, and she noticed. Again. She gives me a slightly sad smile. "I guess you've finally come clean, huh?" she says. I pretend not to know what she's talking about, but she sees right through it.   
"Rory, stop. You know exactly what I'm saying. Your feelings for Jess...I mean, you've finally-"  
"Here you go," you say, placing the plates in front of us. Mom gives you a tight-lipped smile and thanks you. I'm starving (airplane lunches are as bad as they say), so I immediately dig into my food. You just give a small laugh, tear off the check, and walk back to the counter. Mom looks back at me, an uncharacteristic serious look in her eye.   
"Rory. I think we need to talk. I-" I cut her off.  
"Yeah. We do need to talk, Mom. But can't it wait? I'd rather not discuss it here. And plus, I'm hungry." She gives me a wry smile and nods, picking up her fork. We eat somewhat normally, a couple lines of banter and nonsensical comments between bites of burger and blueberry.  
  
We arrive back at the house; I put my luggage in my room and head into the kitchen, where Mom's already sitting at the table. I sit down across from her and wait. She glances down at her hands.  
"So, did Dubya say anything about making you Vice President?" I look at her.  
"Just say it, Mom." She exhales loudly.  
"Okay. I'm not going to lie to you, Rory. I don't like Jess. I think he's...well, he broke you. Like I told you before, I have a right to hate the guy who broke my daughter. And believe me, I have been exercising that right pretty freely." I open my mouth to protest, but she holds up her hand. "Wait. Just hear me out. Yeah, I've hated him for awhile-but I'm starting to think maybe that's not the best decision. I mean, it's taking a lot of energy, and I think I'm gonna need it for other things. And I've thought about it. You know, he himself didn't physically break you, and I told you before-he's being really good, and I've always trusted your judgment. I just don't want you hurt. Or pregnant, for that matter."  
"Mom," I cut in. "I'm not going to get pregnant. I promise you. I'm not ready, and Jess would never-"  
"Rory. I'm just stating my concerns, okay? I'm a mom. We do that occasionally." She sighs. "But I know that you like him, okay? And if you like him, he can't be all bad, can he?" I nod. She looks down at the table. "Then I guess I have to accept that." I'm silent for a moment.  
"I kissed him," I blurt. Her eyes widen and blink a couple times, but she says nothing. "At Sookie's wedding-that's why I was late-and I got so...confused that I decided to go to Washington. And then you told me about Dad and I got even more confused, and upset, and I-"  
"Rory! Breathe, honey. You're going to have an attack one of these days." She looks at me. "You kissed him?" I nod weakly. She looks at me.  
"Do you regret it?" I look her straight in the eye.   
"No," I tell her, honestly, seriously. Her face seems to soften a little, sadden a little.   
"Well," she says wryly, "Cupid really does know what he's doing, doesn't he?" I laugh a little.  
"I don't think it was Cupid's fault," I murmur, and her face softens some more.  
"God, you really have fallen," she says, looking at me, a little amazedly. I nod. She reaches out and cups my cheek in her hand. "I guess I have to believe you when you say he's a good guy, huh?" I smile.  
"Oh, Mom. He's the best. He's smart. Really smart. I mean, you might not see it at first, but he is. He reads everything-Salinger, Dickens, even Jane Austen-and I can tell what he's thinking just by reading one of his books, 'cause of the notes-"  
"Vandalism," she cuts in, a wry smile on her face. I give her a mock-chiding look.  
"It's not vandalism! It's...well, I've heard it's a mark of genius." She laughs.  
"Well, if you say he's smart..." her voice trails off. "So he's the best, huh?" I nod vigorously, smiling. "Wow. I didn't realize you liked him that much... I mean, whoa. This is even worse than it was with...oh, sorry." She says, off the look on my face. I shrug.  
"It's okay. I just feel so guilty, you know? It hasn't been working with Dean lately, and I think it's partly my fault. I'm going to break up with him. I just feel so bad. I think I knew it was over...a long time ago. I just, I don't know, I didn't want it to be over." She nods in understanding.  
"First love feels like it's supposed to last forever, babe. But more often than not, it doesn't. Sorry to break it to you." I shrug again.   
"Yeah. It's okay, Mom. But I don't want to lead Dean on when I feel this strong for someone else..." my voice trails off and I look out the window behind her shoulder. She lets out a low whistle.  
"I guess I really have to learn to like the little delinquent, don't I?" I cock an eyebrow at her curiously.  
"Why?" She laughs in response.  
"Well, if he's going to be my son-in-law someday, then yeah, I'm gonna have to tolerate the kid, right?"  
"Mom!" I blush. "We're not getting married! We're not even officially dating yet! Besides, what about you? He might be your nephew someday!"  
"What are you talking about, Rory?" I roll my eyes.   
"Mom-you and Luke." Her look says that she clearly doesn't get it, so I decide to drop the subject. "Never mind. What's for dinner?"  
"We just ate lunch, and now you want dinner? Well, at least we know you're my child." She laughs. "I was thinking we'd rent some movies, get some junk food, you know, the whole routine. And we can-no wait, just you-you can go visit Lane."  
"Yeah, it's hard enough getting past Mrs. Kim with just me. Add you into the equation and we're screwed."  
"Gee, thanks. That makes me feel so loved."  
"It should. Now, let's go."  
  
  
We end up renting West Side Story and Rebel Without A Cause - Mom said it was 'appropriate for the occasion.' We clear the market out of all its candy, popcorn, and basically anything carbonated or sugary. We run into Lane at the music store, practicing with-get this-her band. Yep. Lane Kim, Korean Bible student & closet rock-n-roll fan extraordinaire (heaven forbid!) has a band. They were practicing a Clash song-"Guns Of Brixton", ironically enough, and when she sees me, she leaps from her place behind the drum set, almost knocking the cymbal over.   
She introduces us to Dave, her new (gasp!) boyfriend. He plays the bass. I tell her what I told Mom, she squeals in approval, and then they give us a special performance of "Janie Jones". We clap, almost surprised (they're actually not that bad) and then leave, promising Lane we won't tell her mother of her scandalous behavior.   
We watch Rebel first, Mom teasing me the whole length through. Then we pop in West Side Story, and Mom sings along-well, 'sings' along. Maria's name will never be the same to me, I assure you. After the movie's done, I give a huge yawn and tell Mom that I'm exhausted and going to bed. She then teases me some more ("It's only eight o'clock! What are you, five?") but kisses my cheek and tells me goodnight. I go into my room, change, and fall asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow.  
  
  
I awake abruptly; from a dream or a noise, I don't know. All I know is that I'm awake and it's four AM. And that I want to see you. Talk to you. Kiss you, maybe. All I know is that I need you. Now. Going against my promise made before, I act on an impulse and pick up the phone. I take a deep breath and dial. It rings, rings, rings, rings...someone picks up.   
"Hello?" you say, sleep thickening your voice. I thank God that Luke is apparently a heavy sleeper. "Who is this?"  
"Oh, sorry, Jess. It's me. Rory." You're silent a moment. "Jess?"  
"It's four in the morning, Rory. Don't you think it's the wrong time to have a tea party?" Okay. You're definitely not a morning person.   
"Well, um...I'd like to talk to you. No, wait. I uh, I need to talk to you. Can you meet me at the bridge?" I hear you sigh.  
"Right now?" I giggle a little and nod, even though you can't see me.  
"Yeah...I'm sorry. I have to talk to you. I know it's completely out of the blue, and you don't have to if-"  
"I'll be there." you say abruptly, and I hear the dial tone.   
Smiling, I hastily scribble a note for Mom, in case she happens to wake up and check on me-at four AM, funny, I know. Then, opening my window, I pull my bathrobe tighter around me and crawl outside onto the porch. I head towards town, hoping my footsteps aren't too loud as I run towards the bridge.  
  
The mists of early morning surround everything, turning Stars Hollow into a chilly, ethereal ghost-like dream. The buildings around me are in a deep slumber; their windows are shut, the are shades drawn, and the hum of deep, quiet sleep-breathing can almost be heard through the near-tangible silence. The streetlights are still on, but the light is grayish and barely visible, the sun a looming threat in the eastern distance. The trees are mere shadows; they linger in the backdrop, just observers to this hazy reverie. No one else is awake besides the trees-they sway lightly in the breezeless morning air, giving proof of their vitality. It's odd to see Stars Hollow so quiet-no hustle and bustle, no gossip murmurs in the air, no sunny sidewalks filled with sunny people. It's just me, and the mist, and the quiet.  
  
I reach the bridge and sit softly on the wooden planks, not wanting to disturb the uncharacteristic silence. In fact, I'm so caught up in listening to the quiet that I don't hear you until your footsteps make a creak next to me on the bridge. I look up and smile, and a corner of your mouth turns up in response. You sit down beside me without a word, and emulate me, staring out across the water into the shadowy trees. The water is still, unmoving, and it forms a crude mirror below us. I can see your face in it; you're now looking down at the water intently. The look in your eyes is intense. I think it scares you a little, because your gaze almost immediately shifts to the far trees again.   
  
"I thought there was going to be tea," you quip, causing me to roll my eyes.  
"And here I thought you knew me. Since when do I drink tea?"  
"Well, since you had to go without Luke's coffee for six weeks, I thought maybe you'd have given it up."  
"Absence makes the heart grow fonder." I say, knowing full well that there is a double meaning in that sentence. You look at me, a million questions reflected in your eyes.  
"Does that only apply to coffee?"   
"No." I say, turning to face you. "It also applies to crazy Dodgers sitting on bridges at four in the morning."  
"Are you saying I'm crazy?" you say lightly, but I know you got the message.  
"No. I'm saying I missed you, Jess. And I'm sorry I kissed you & took off. I shouldn't have done that. Forgive me?" You're quiet a moment.  
"I already have." You're quiet again, and I smile.  
"Good."   
"I had a girlfriend after you left," you say, doing a screeching subject change. I don't know what to say, but I nod, telling you to continue.  
"I had a girlfriend. Her name was Shane. She's new here, works at the auto shop." You sigh. "See, Rory, when you left without saying anything, I figured you thought the kiss was a mistake, or you didn't want to see me. So I decided to move on. I wasn't going to wait for you. I met Shane when she came into the diner one day. I won't lie to you-she was hot, and that was the basis of our relationship. She was hot, she thought I was hot, we make out every chance we get." It's hurting me to hear you say this, but I guess I deserve it, so I don't say anything. You sigh.  
"But then I got your letter." Brandishing said letter from your back pocket, you hand it to me, folded and slightly crumpled, and I smile slightly. "I read it, and that was the end of me and Shane. I knew I was kidding myself, so..." Your voice trails off, and I unfold the letter, laughing a little as I read it.   
  
  
Dear Jess,  
  
I don't know where to start...I kissed you. For the longest time, that's the only thought that's been running through my head. I kissed you. I kissed you. But I guess you already know that. I kissed you, and I have a boyfriend, who I supposedly am in love with. But that kiss made me rethink my boyfriend...and how much I really love him. It's not a bad thing-I needed to think about it, and kissing you just helped me do it faster. So thanks, I guess.  
You can't hear me right now, but I'm sighing in frustration. I don't know how to say what I want to say to you. I guess I'll just start writing and see what happens. Well, here goes.  
You really puzzle me, did you know that? You're so...elusive. Hard to figure out. Well, for me, anyway. To anyone else, you'd be so simple to understand: rebellious city kid thrust into a small-town world and bitter about it. What's there to comprehend? (I hope I'm not alienating you by giving you a psychoanalysis...) But there was something to figure out: Why were you bitter and sarcastic to everyone else, but nice to me? That was the thing that was so puzzling about you. You're a paradox, a jumble of opposing characteristics all shoved together, resulting in a sullen (but caring,) sarcastic (but sincerely so,) bad boy (who reads Jane Austen, by the way) living in a small town. It was funny to me for a while. But I was the only one who got the joke, because I was the only one who got to see all that stuff in parentheses. I was the only one you let in, and, being oblivious me, didn't know why. And I didn't know why until I kissed you, and you tried to kiss me back. Duh. How could I have been so dense? I don't know, but when it hit me I got confused...I don't know what to say. I really don't. Except that I'm sorry I didn't talk to you before I left. Like I said, I was confused, and when I'm confused, I have a tendency to either ramble or run away. Unfortunately for you, at the time I chose to run. It's nothing personal, really. Luckily, I've had time to think and get un-confused, and I just want you to know that I'm sorry. I don't regret it, though...hmmm...I don't know what to say again. I'll just talk to you when I get back.  
All right. Enough of this heavy stuff. I guess I'll say what I should have started with: I went to the Library of Congress today...you would have loved it.  
  
Love, Rory  
  
  
"This was the only one I had the guts to send," I say, still looking down at the letter. You laugh quietly.   
"There were more?" you ask, a bit of surprise in your voice. I look up at you.  
"About thirty. All unfinished, or too sappy, or too formal-sounding. This was the one that sounded the most real...although I didn't really think so at the time. Paris actually made me send it. Ironically enough, she told me I was getting on her nerves." You laugh, a real laugh that sends a slight chill down my spine.   
"I'm going to have to thank Paris next time I see her."  
"That's probably a bad idea. She probably doesn't want to see you, or hear you, or have anything to do with you after those six weeks with me." You raise your eyebrows.   
"I didn't think I could have that effect on you," you tell me honestly, and I blush.  
"Yeah, well, I'll be honest, James Dean. I didn't think I could make you move back to a town you hated just so you could be near me." You look at me intently.  
"You finally figured it out," you say, tapping your knuckles lightly on the bridge. I blush again.  
"Yeah."  
We sit in a silence that is filled with the sound of un-unrequited feelings; we both are smiling out into the distance, the cheesy, metaphorical distance that holds who-knows what and other things of the like. You turn your head towards me, as if you're about to say something. I look at you.  
  
"What?" I whisper in the milk-mist morning.   
  
Much to my surprise, you don't say anything, but lean forward fast and press your mouth to mine in a gentle but fiery kiss, not unlike the one we shared so many weeks ago. Before I can return the kiss, you back away and stand up, leaving me giddy, shocked, a little breathless. You begin to walk away, pausing only to turn around, your eyes smirking a little, and murmur, "Welcome home." You disappear.  
I now know how you must have felt: giddy, shocked, a little breathless. I admit, it's a little different for me: at least I know you're not running anywhere.  
I giggle girlishly, my head filled with thoughts of more to come. Giving one last glance around me at the quiet I know won't last long-things are never quiet with a Stars Hollow romance-I run home, racing the sun as I go.   
  
A/N: Well, that's it. Hope you liked it-review!!!! And don't forget to watch the season premiere on Tuesday!!!! 


End file.
